191: The night is deep and the candle is warm

The moonlight outside slanted through the window lattice, and stacks of documents on the desk were replaced one after another. The scent of ink blended with the warmth of the candlelight, spreading through the silent night.

Shen Xingwan leaned against the soft couch, having fallen into a deep sleep at some point.

Her brow was furrowed as if she were having an uneasy dream, yet her hand tightly gripped that roll of parchment.

By the time Situ Jun finished processing the last dossier, the night was already deep.

He looked up out the window; the moonlight had already climbed the lattice, casting a clear radiance.

His body felt stiff from sitting so long, so he stood up to stretch his neck and slowly walked to the side of the soft couch. Seeing that the Red gold step-shake at her temple was crooked and the tassels were hanging by her cheek, he reached out to straighten it.

Just as his fingertips touched the cool tassels, his wrist suddenly tightened—she had reached back and grabbed his sleeve with a force that wasn't great but carried a sense of stubbornness.

"Don't... go..."

She murmured softly, her eyelashes trembling slightly under the candlelight like a butterfly about to take flight.

Situ Jun's movements paused.

He leaned over, carefully removed that step-shake, and gently placed it into the Vanity box on the desk, the metal clinking with a faint, crisp sound.

Then he took off his outer robe and draped it loosely over her; the brocade, carrying his body heat, instantly enveloped her.

"I won't go."

He said in a low voice, so soft it seemed he feared disturbing her dream.

Shen Xingwan's brow gradually smoothed out, and her hand gripping his sleeve loosened slightly.

The candlelight washed over the tips of her hair, casting tiny spots of light onto the brocade robe, appearing even more eye-catching than that step-shake.

Looking at her tranquil sleeping face, Situ Jun suddenly felt that perhaps the Embroiderer was right.

Some things don't need to be forced; treating them with sincerity is enough.

A moment later, Xingwan opened her eyes and gazed at him blankly. Her eyes were shimmering with ripples, mixed with the confusion of just waking up, and even held a bit of grievance and resentment, like a fawn drenched by rain.

Situ Jun was slightly dazed and asked warmly:

"What's wrong? Uncomfortable sleeping here? Why don't you go back to your room to rest?"

Xingwan looked away and propped herself up on the soft couch. The outer robe slipped slightly from her shoulder, revealing her slender collarbone.

She bit her lip, her voice carrying a trace of imperceptible trembling:

"Does the Manor Lord despise Xingwan for having been Wang Cheng's wife, and thus... won't let Xingwan attend to him?"

As soon as Xingwan finished speaking, the dazed look in Situ Jun's eyes turned into a helpless smile.

He raised his hand, his fingertips gently brushing over her slightly messy hair at the temples, his movements carrying a tenderness he hadn't even noticed himself.

"What are you thinking about all day in that head of yours?" His voice was even lower than before, as clear and refreshing as night dew. "Given the manor's rules, when have you ever seen me keep anyone in the study to attend to me?"

Xingwan bit her lip, her fingertips twisting the outer robe he had draped over her.

The material was high-quality Cloud Brocade and still carried the crisp scent of soapberry from his body, making her heart skip a beat. Yet, she stubbornly tilted her head and said:

"Then why did the Manor Lord..."

"Why what?"

Situ Jun interrupted her, leaning in close.

The candlelight flickered in his eyes, making those usually calm eyes seem a few degrees warmer:

"Afraid you'd catch a cold, afraid you wouldn't sleep soundly, afraid of disturbing your rest—in your eyes, are all these things signs of disdain?"

His breath brushed past her ear, carrying the crisp scent of soapberry.

Xingwan's cheeks flushed red instantly, but she still remained stubborn:

"Then why is the Manor Lord unwilling to..."

"Unwilling to what?"

Situ Jun raised an eyebrow and suddenly reached out to pull her into his arms.

The soft couch was already narrow, and caught off guard, she leaned against his chest. She could clearly hear his steady and powerful heartbeat; each thud made her heart flutter, and even her breathing lost its rhythm.

"Unwilling to take advantage of someone in a vulnerable state," he lowered his head, his lips almost touching the top of her head, "and even more unwilling to let you feel that my feelings for you are even slightly the same as others'."

Xingwan suddenly looked up, meeting his deep gaze.

There wasn't a hint of disdain there, only a seriousness she couldn't quite understand, like the moonlight in the deep of night—so pure it made one's heart tremble.

She opened her mouth, but the questions she had prepared were suddenly blocked in her throat. Her cheeks grew hotter and hotter, and even the tips of her ears turned completely red.

Situ Jun looked at her reddened ears, the smile in his eyes deepening, but he only raised his hand to rub her hair:

"It's getting late. I'll take you back to your room."

He helped her up and picked up the parchment roll from the desk to hand it to her.

Xingwan took it, her fingertips touching his warmth as if she had been scalded. She suddenly said softly:

"Then, Manor Lord... could you stay for a moment tonight?"

Situ Jun's footsteps paused. When he turned back, he met the shimmering light in her eyes, which were like a night sky hiding stars, startlingly bright.

He was silent for a moment but finally nodded, his voice carrying an imperceptible indulgence:

"Alright."

The candlelight flickered, stretching their shadows very long and overlapping them on the blue brick floor, as gentle as a painting that would never fade.

Opening the door, Situ Jun looked toward the West Wing:

"Follow me."

Two simple words made Xingwan's heart leap. She took a deep breath, suppressing the surging excitement in her heart, and replied with joy in her eyes:

"Yes."

She maintained a distance of half a step, following Situ Jun's tall and upright figure. The moonlight stretched their shadows long as they moved silently through the quiet corridor.

The breeze under the corridor carried the fresh scent of plants, making the lantern tassels sway gently. The flickering light fell upon them both.

Upon reaching the entrance of Xingwan's bedchamber, the maidservant Little Lotus was about to step forward to serve, but Situ Jun raised his hand to stop her:

"Little Lotus, you go down and rest. There's no need for you to serve tonight."

Little Lotus looked up at Xingwan and, seeing Xingwan nod with a flushed face, complied and withdrew.

Xingwan followed him inside and gently closed the door behind her. With a soft "click," the night outside was shut away.

Situ Jun lit the Silver candelabra on the table, and the warm yellow glow spread out, dyeing Xingwan's skirt in pale gold.

The room's furnishings were simple and elegant, filled with the faint scent of magnolias that belonged to Xingwan. The outer room had tables, chairs, and a soft couch, while the inner room was hung with moon-white gauze curtains, through which a Canopy bed with brocade quilts was faintly visible.

Situ Jun walked to the table and poured himself a cup of cold tea.

Xingwan immediately stepped forward, naturally taking the teapot from his hand:

"Manor Lord, cold tea is bad for the body. Xingwan will change it for a hot one."

Her voice was soft and gentle, but her movements were very efficient. She quickly took out a small pot being kept warm from the nearby brazier, brewed a fresh cup of hot tea, and presented it with both hands, her fingertips turning slightly white.

Situ Jun took it but didn't drink. He just placed it on the table and looked at her again with a gentle gaze:

"Have you truly decided?"

"Yes, Manor Lord." Xingwan stood with her hands down, her eyes gazing intensely at Situ Jun.

"Wang Cheng divorced you and sent you to serve me. Do you resent him?"

Situ Jun's voice betrayed no emotion, as calm as a pool of deep water.

Xingwan's body trembled slightly. She looked up, her beautiful eyes meeting his directly. A trace of bitterness appeared in them, followed by an almost transparent sincerity, hiding a hint of imperceptible sorrow:

"Yes, I have resented him."

She paused, her voice softening:

"Back then, Wang Cheng hoped... hoped that Xingwan could serve the Manor Lord well, so that the Manor Lord would be... physically and mentally pleased during his stay in East Lin City. Xingwan... had no choice, and... was willing."

Those last few words were spoken very softly, yet they carried a heavy weight, falling into the silent room.

Willing?

Situ Jun smiled inwardly. He clearly remembered that back then, the Eye of Detection showed her favorability toward him was only 30.

Now, Xingwan's favorability toward him had actually reached 90. This was more than just being willing; it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say she was utterly devoted.

But he didn't point it out. In this world where the strong prey on the weak, beauty itself was a resource, as well as a burden.

When Wang Cheng offered her back then, it was nothing more than a means to consolidate his position; and her acceptance must have had underlying difficulties or desires.

"Since you've decided," Situ Jun put down the teacup, his voice calm and steady, "then do not regret it."

Hearing this, a flush of shyness flashed across Xingwan's face. She took a deep breath, as if she had made a certain resolution.

She raised her hands and, with elegant and slow movements, unfastened the golden belt tied around her slender waist. The metal buckle of the belt made a faint "click" sound, exceptionally clear in the silent room, like a beat against one's heart.